


The Wedding

by Phsbarbie



Series: Dragon Age Origins [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:26:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phsbarbie/pseuds/Phsbarbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair finally marries his bride</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth I pace. I've long forgotten how many times.  
"Alistair, my friend, if you do not calm down and hold still you will wear a hole right through that carpet." I glare at Zevran.  
"What are you doing back here?"  
"Angel has said that if I am to stay and be the Royal Assassin..."  
"Who said you could be-" I start, but he continues as if I hadn't spoken.  
"...that you and I would need to start getting along better. So, here I am, to calm your nerves. They do need calming, no?" I pause in my pacing and narrow my eyes at him.  
"I don't trust you Zevran, especially around Angel." He throws back his head and laughs.  
"Alistair, you cannot truly think I would steal your bride on your wedding day, do you?" I fold my arms over my chest and answer him with silence. "I am hurt, my friend. I would never steal a bride on her wedding day. The day before or after perhaps, but never the day of. And since she refused me yesterday, you have her at least until tomorrow." When I still don't respond, he sighs. "You know, for a king renowned for his humor you don't take jokes very well."  
"Let's get something straight here Zevran. I am considering, considering, adding you to the payroll. But if you ever try to seduce Angel again I will kill you myself." Zevran searches my face for a sign I'm exaggerating, but he doesn't find one. Because I'm not.  
"Ah, Alistair. You certainly have changed since that trip to your sister's," he says, shaking his head. I resume my pacing.  
"I have learned that no one is going to look out for me, no one is simply going to hand me what I want. I have to take it for myself."  
"This is very true. However, I must inform you that if you decide against 'adding me to the payroll,' as it were, your most beautiful wife-to-be has offered me a spot on hers as Warden Commander." I stop dead in my tracks.  
"She did?"   
"Oh yes. She says she has been around noblemen long enough to know that your gift of Amaranthine to the Wardens will not be met kindly. Of course, this would mean I would be required to travel with her on all Grey Warden business. How many of those trips will you be able to accompany her on, my liege?" He asks with an eyebrow raised.  
"Welcome to the team, Zevran," I say, extending my hand.  
"Ah, you have decided? This is good. You pay far more than the Wardens," he says, clasping my hand and shaking it.  
"Right, fine, great, now shouldn't you go take your seat?" I say, making a shooing movement with my hands.  
"Don't be ridiculous Alistair. I am in the wedding party." He's kidding right? He must be kidding.   
"Come again?"  
"I will be walking down the aisle with the lovely Leliana." He's not kidding. I sit on a nearby bench and run my hands through my hair in frustration.  
"For the love of the Maker, does she tell me nothing?"  
"About the wedding? Probably not. Besides, you know our-"  
"My."  
"-your Angel. She's not one to ask for permission."  
"No," I say with a smile, "She's not." The door to my little corridor slams open and in walks the most terrifying sight I have ever seen. Shale. In a bridesmaid's dress.  
"Ah-ha! There you are Painted Elf. The sister was looking for you. She wanted to be sure the Painted Elf was not bothering It." Zevran looks confused.  
"It what?" he asks.  
"It that," she says, nodding her head at me. "The sister will be glad to see that the Drunken Dwarf and the Qunari are not here. Perhaps they have returned to the hall."  
"*Belch* Is this where the party is?" asks a drunken Oghren, walking in behind Shale.  
"It appears I spoke too soon," she says.  
"Alistair!" says Oghren, stepping around Shale and seeing me. "I've been looking for you. I have some advice for you."  
"Oh Maker. Of course you do. Why wouldn't I want to hear your advice on marriage, when yours was such a shining example to the rest of us?" I say in obvious sarcasm. But it appears I am being far too subtle.  
"Ha! I told Wynne you'd want to talk to me. 'Make matters worse' my arse! Okay, so here it is: run. Right now, out those doors, and don't look back."  
"You must be joking. You want me to leave the Hero of Fereldon at the altar?" He nods at me seriously. Or drunkenly, I'm not sure which.   
"Best thing you could do. Oh sure, she may be hot now and always up for a tumble, but give it a year or two and she'll be leaving you for a poetess."  
"Really Oghren? A poetess?" I ask in disbelief.  
"You bet your flaming arse! She won't even have to look far. Didn't Leliana have a thing for her to begin with?"  
"Oghren, my stocky friend, I know just the place to get you some more ale." Oghren immediately loses interest in me and turns to Zevran.  
"You do? Hot damn! That namby-pamby butler told me I've already drunk everything on hand and I need to wait until the reception. I knew he was holding out on me!"  
"Yes, that bastard! Anyway, follow me. It's back this way in the hall," says Zevran, leading him out. At least he's good for something.  
"Oh good. I'm glad that's taken care of. It's nearly time to start," says Shale.  
"It is?" I say, starting to panic. "But I don't know what to do. How can I not know what to do? What am I supposed to do?"  
"I do not know what It is supposed to do. I only know I am to walk down the aisle with the Drunken Dwarf and not crush him while doing so." I'm momentarily distracted from my panic.  
"Wait a minute, why are you walking down with Oghren? Why not Sten?"  
"Because somebody thinks It has a sense of humor," she grumbles as she leaves the room. Of course, as soon as she does Teagan enters it.  
"Maker's breath! Can I not get a single moment of peace to let my nerves get the better of me?"  
"My apologies, Your Majesty," says Teagan with a smile. "I am here to take you to the altar."  
"And who are you escorting down the aisle? Flemeth?" I say, only slightly joking.  
"No, no, I'll be standing beside you through the ceremony," says Teagan.  
"Oh? And who's standing by Angel?"  
"That would be her Mabari, sire," he says, clearing his throat.   
"You must be joking. The dog?"  
"Well, to be fair, it is one of only two family members she has left." Well now I feel like an insensitive jerk. Probably a good thing she didn't tell me the wedding plans.  
"Yes, of course. Wait, did you just say you'll be standing next to me while Angel walks down the aisle?"  
"Um... yes." I glare at him.  
"If I catch you staring at her hips I'm going to banish you."  
"Not ever going to let me live that one down, are you?" he asks with a sigh.  
"Not ever," I agree, leaving my apparently poor hiding spot and heading towards the Grand Chapel in the Cathedral.  
"Stop fidgeting Alistair."  
"I can't help it. What if she changes her mind and doesn't show?" I ask.   
"We have guards posted on every exit," replies Teagan dryly.   
"Thanks, very comforting."  
"Relax," he says, guiding me to a stop at the front of the church. The church filled to capacity.  
"Maker, I don't have to give another speech, do I?"  
"Nope. Just stand there, try not to pass out, and remember your line is 'I do,'" he says, giving me a gentle push towards my spot.  
"Right, very helpful." I'm spared his response by the start of the wedding march. My hands get sweaty and I start to lock my knees before remembering one of my three jobs is to not pass out. Maybe Teagan was being helpful after all.   
First comes Zevran and Leliana, with Zevran shooting his "I'm a sexy elf, let's go to bed" look at everyone while he walks. Or maybe he's just looking around, I can't really tell the difference. Leliana is beaming brightly. I can almost see her composing the ballad for this wedding in her head. Then come Shale and Oghren. Someone has added a wreath of flowers to Shale's ensemble, while Oghren is exerting all his concentration on trying to walk a straight line. And failing. But Shale doesn't crush him, so that's a point in our favor. Finally come Wynne and Sten, Wynne giving me her patented "cat that ate the pigeon" smile(I stand by that metaphor). Sten, meanwhile, is looking more uncomfortable than I've ever seen him. And that's saying something, since when I met him he'd been locked in a cage for 20 days.   
Then the tempo of the music changes and everyone stands up. Angel appears at the foot of the aisle and, like the very first time I saw her, I can't breathe. Her long brown hair is down(a luxury she can't afford in battle), her blue eyes sparkle more than the tiara on her head, and she has a quiet smile that seems to be just for me. Fergus is walking her down the aisle, with her Mabari following behind, a fact that makes me nervous since our hunting trip last week didn't go as planned. She's assured me she can take him though, if he raises any objections.  
She seemingly floats down the aisle and I wonder, not for the first time, if she really is an angel. My own personal one. They reach me and Fergus hands her over with nothing more than a look that promises retribution if I hurt her. As if I ever could. I take her by the arm and guide her up the two steps to the altar. Before we reach it she leans over and whispers,  
"First comment about me looking like an angel and I'll feed you to the darkspawn." I try to cover my surprised laugh with a cough. It seems our roles are reversed as I struggle not to laugh and she looks rather pleased with herself. The ceremony itself passes like a blur and the next thing I know I'm being told to kiss my wife for the first time. My wife. For the rest of my days, this woman will be my wife.  
Before she can move I take her in my arms, dip her low, and give her a kiss that has the congregation breaking out in cheers and whistles. When I finally let her up for air she gives me a mischievous grin.  
"That was quite the first kiss."  
"I figured we should set the standard now for what the people can expect from their king and queen."  
"That is an excellent idea," she says, pulling me down for another kiss. It's good to be the king.


End file.
